Helene
by Sirena Brown
Summary: Helene. The most beautiful woman in the world. How many men will die to bring her back to her home? And how many will die to keep her? Lots of variant spellings and I admit to playing with Bulfinch's version. PG13 for sexual references.
1. Prologue

**It really was unfair of them, to ask him such a question. How could he possibly answer such a question? One could not choose between the three, for fear of angering the other two. How could they do this to him?**

Pallas, in her infinite wisdom, had made a mistake. It wasn't something she did very often, but even she could not foresee the consequences of this error. 

An apple had fallen next to her place at the wedding of her niece Thetis and she had claimed it for her own. But Pallas had sat with her step-mother and half-sister at a triangular table, and each had claimed the apple, for it fell in the center of the table and read "To The Fairest."

It was obviously for Pallas and she wondered why the other two even bothered to lay claim to it. But that they did and a fight ensued, one that  Pallas' father decreed had best be settled by a mortal.

Pallas, as goddess of wisdom, was appointed to select the mortal. Her step-mother and half-sister were not pleased by this decision, but knew better than to cross Pallas' father. Pallas was overseen in this by her father and was instructed to select a mortal dear to each of the three goddesses competing for the apple. Her first thought was to select a common mortal, dear to none. But her father sternly reminded her that his terms were not to be brushed aside. Even though she was his favorite child, Pallas' father was very adamant about this mortal being the correct one.

Pallas watched the Earth for the equivalent of twenty mortal years, searching;  and found the perfect human for the task. He was a prince of the house of Troy. His house was a great foe of Pallas' step-mother, but the young prince's mother, who married _into_the House of Troy, was named Heracuba, a tribute to the queen goddess. Hera Juno was fond of the Queen of Troy and so Pallas assumed the son was a favorite as well.

Pallas' half-sister was fond of the Trojan prince because of his beauty; he was a superb instrument of love and had a great lust for women. Pallas' own connection was a vision granted to her by her half-brother, Phoebus, god of prophecy. Pallas' vision was of the young prince of Troy slaying the great warrior Achilles (son of the girl Thetis at whose marriage the competition began) in the midst of a battle, proving Paris to be as great a man as Achilles, who was the greatest of them all. 

**How was it that a great goddess, who had shown him neither favor nor anger could give him such a decision? He was a content man. He needed not the weight of choosing one goddess above others. **

**But the gifts they promised were not those granted to every mortal, either. No, he could use some of these immortal boons.**

**In his mind, he had already ruled out Hera Juno, for he was the second son of a king: he needed no power or riches. He supposed that greatness in war, the gift of Palla Athena, or Pallas as she said the prince could call her, was not so bad, but what prince would willingly bring war unto his country? Not a prince like himself, one who enjoyed the spoils of his father's reign and was content in his lavish ways. But what had Aphrodite, the great Venus, proposed to him? The most beautiful woman in the world. He had heard of such a woman. Aphrodite the Venus called her "a woman whose looks stop the hearts of all mortal men who gaze upon her." A worthy woman was something he could use. Oh yes.**

**His decision settled it. The apple belonged to Aphrodite the Venus, goddess of love and pleasure. And he, Paris Sheparus Priami, son of Heracuba the Fair and King Priam the Wise of Troy, would have for his wife the most beautiful woman in the world.**

Pallas was so offended by the young prince's decision that she granted to his great enemy, Achilles, the wisdom and grace during battle she would have given to Paris. She hoped that this gift would enable Achilles to defeat the weakling Paris and change the Fate she had seen in her vision. 

She gave the young warrior her name and favor, which he gladly accepted. He instructed his inferiors to change his name on all legal papers and send letters proclaiming his new allegiance to all friends and foes. He himself carved the helmet of Pallas onto his shield and added at the bottom 'This is the shield of Achilles Pallus Yemendi Fortuna, great warrior of Palla Athena's own hand.'

Pallas was pleased.

Hera Juno was not. Aphrodite the Venus had her new favorite, as did Hera Juno's much hated step-daughter, Pallas Athena, but she herself still had not chosen a side or a mortal to dote upon. It was irritating, for one as great she, Queen of the Gods, no less! was so lost in this. The wife of the king of Troy _was_ named for her, that was true, but the House of Troy was one with which she _would not _ally herself with. 

Hera Juno decided, eventually, not to choose a favorite, but to ruin Palla Athena's Achilles and that awful prince Trojan. It would not be difficult.

**Was she ever beautiful. He had sailed to the faraway land of Sparta and been received by the King. King Menelaus. Menelaus was an old man, with nothing to offer a woman like that. He honestly had no idea why she had ever married him. But then, she had not been a woman of stature before their marriage. Perhaps his riches and power was what drew such a beauty out of the woodwork and into the courts of Sparta.**

**When Aphrodite the Venus promised him a woman of unsurpassed beauty, he had thought that she would conjure one up from her power. He had not thought that she would guide him to the island, this Sparta, and dance in front of him what he supposed was his prize, the wife of Menelaus…**

 Aphrodite the Venus had thought to create a woman as well, but her father, The Almighty, refused to allow her. He told her that with the apple came a responsibility to complete her side of the bargain with Paris-the-Prince.  He was handsome, the young Prince was. She would have taken him for her own lover had she not despised his lack of strength, his weakness and cowardice. Her darling Aremars, which was her own pet name for him, for he called Ares by some and Mars by others,  was strong, resilient, and a wonderful lover. 

And so her task became to find for the Prince the most beautiful of all mortal women. It would have been simple had the Prince been a lover of men, for Ganymede still lived on the Earth at that time. He was the most beautiful human. But a woman it had to be, and that Ganymede was not.  

The most beautiful of all women…


	2. New Beginnings

Chapter One: New Beginnings

**************

Ledagh felt as if her insides were turning out. She had no idea what this sensation was, and she was frightened. She managed to stumble into her house (for she had been out picking flowers) and her mother caught her as she fell across the threshold.

"Bragher! Hurry! Bring some water!" the old woman called to her husband. Cecilah, always a strong woman, was able, even on her old age, to carry her young daughter to her bed. 

"Ledagh? What ails thee, child?" the old woman pressed her face close to Ledagh's.

Ledagh did not respond. Her eyes rolled back into her head and Cecilah stepped away from daughter in fear. Bragher, Ledagh's father, came in with the bucket of water. He set it carefully next to his wife and stared at his only child.

"What is it, Cecilah?" he whispered.

Ledagh began to convulse, and Cecilah moved quickly to hold her down. "She's been taken by spirits, me thinks," she replied harshly, straining against her child.

Bragher moved to help Cecilah and Ledagh's seizures stopped.

The girl screamed out, suddenly, startling both her parents.

And suddenly, the end of the bed was awash in blood. An egg, the size Cecilah judged to be two hand's width's across, lay in it. From under the skirts of their daughter came another egg as she screamed again.

The eggs were so much larger than those of any bird ever seen by Cecilah or her husband. 

Neither of them moved, too afraid to do anything.

Ledagh, her pain gone, sat up slowly and watched, as did her parents, the two eggs begin to crack.

From the first emerged a baby boy, naked and newborn. He fell aside, showing the two old people and their young daughter that there was another baby inside. The child was a girl, and she screamed to be released from her egg-shell prison.

The old woman gasped. Ledagh stared in shock at the eggs that had come from her own body and at the two children that had emerged from them.

And then the second egg was open. Another boy rolled from it, and was quiet. There was another child in the egg; baby girl, but that child was quiet as well.

The four children looked just as bewildered as the three adults felt.

And then the first girl resumed her screeches and it spurred old Cecilah into action. Bragher was banished from the room as Ledagh rose to clean herself and help her mother with the children. 

They washed the screaming girl-child first. It was an odd-looking child. It had the dark hair and eyes of Ledagh and Cecilah, but the skin was tanner, as the child's father had been darker than the snow-white Ledagh. Her husband, Tyndareus, was darker skinned than his wife.

They washed the second girl next. She was quiet and content, looking inquisitively up at her mother and grandmother. She was _such_ a beautiful child with golden ringlets and eyes like a summer's cloudless day. Her skin was like lilies and she was perfect and round. She had the skin of her mother, but otherwise bore no resemblance to either parent.

The one first boy was colored like the baby girl who had sprung from the first egg with him. The second child looked much like his egg0mate, the beautiful baby girl. His face was stronger than his sister's, making him less handsome than she. And the two males were content to be, as was the last-born girl.

Ledagh and her mother were quite perplexed by the experience, for neither had known such an odd birth, nor had either thought that Ledagh was with child at all. Dareus, Ledagh's husband, would be pleased at the births, but annoyed with his astrologers for not foreseeing the birth of his heirs. Tyndareus, or Dareus to his wife, was King of Sparta, and would be overjoyed that an heir had been born at last.

Cecilah called the children a gift from The Almighty Zeus, Jove of All. Little did she know just how right she was.

**************


	3. What's In A Name?

Chapter Two: What's In A Name?

***************

Ledagh Geminae Tyndareusah was awoken by her daughter. 

"Mother. Mother, wake, please. A man is here to see you. Would you like to speak with him, or shall we send him away?"  

"Child, what?" Ledagh, as queen, was never awoken to speak with strangers. Especially at this hour and by her own child.

"This man, Mother, he has come wishing to speak with you." The child was said simply. She did not elaborate, and Ledagh felt her irritation rise.

"Child, what time is it? Who calls upon the Queen of Sparta at such an hour?" she asked, rising. She knew that whoever the man may be, he was important if he were calling upon her at such an hour. "And, Child, what are you doing here? Why are you not in you own room, asleep?"

Ledagh's daughter said, frankly "I was awoken, Mother. I sensed that you needed me and within minutes of my arrival of your rooms, this man appeared."

Ledagh dressed swiftly and left her room, child behind her. "Where are you brothers? And sister?"

"Asleep," said the child. She had always been Ledagh's favorite, a child more special than the others.

The man stood in Ledagh's private parlor. He was tall, much taller than Dareus, Ledagh could not help noticing. His hair was golden and curly and his eyes were the deepest shade of blue. He wore a simple golden tunic and cloak.

"Ledagh," he breathed. He did not bow as any other man would in her presence. Even Dareus bowed to her, for it was by marrying her that he became king. Bragher, Ledagh's father, had been king until Ledagh's marriage. And Bragher had only become King through marrying Cecilah. Cecilah was Queen Mother of Sparta and it was at her small summer cottage that the children of Ledagh had been born. 

Ledagh was affronted. "Who are you?" she demanded.

The child looked up at the man and knew. She just knew. He looked at her, knew that she knew, and smiled.

Ledagh watched the exchange with growing outrage. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"Ledagh," her name rolled off his tongue familiarly. "I just wished to see you…" He looked again at the small girl. "And the children."

The child smiled up at him. 

"How old be you, small one?" the man asked her.

The child, with grace and daintiness not expected of a child her age, curtsied, and said, "Five years, Highness."

Ledagh stepped in front of her daughter protectively. "Tell me what you want with me or I shall call the guard."

Both the child and the man laughed. He spoke, "No guards, Ledagh. But I would like to see my son."

"Then go and see him," shouted Ledagh, outraged at this man and his complete randomness.

"I will get him, Highness," said the small child, leaving the room swiftly. Her dainty features lighted in excitement as she sped away, skirts flying.

"Who are you?" said Ledagh again. She was trying very hard not to scream with frustration.

He waited until the small girl could no longer hear them before he said, "I… am the swan, Ledagh." The man watched as the queen paled. 

Before she could answer, the small girl was back, toting her brother behind her.

"Polydareus? What on earth?" said Ledagh, surprised. Her second son, also five years of age was blinking sleepily up at the man, his dark blonde curls tousled. 

"Who's dat?" said Polydareus, squinting at the man.

"Deuces," said his sister, excitedly, using her childish nickname for him, "It's him. Remember, the one I told you about?"

"My son," said the man, squatting down to be somewhat level with the children. "Let me look at you."

Polydareus, urged by his sister, stepped forward. The man looked at the pudgy boy closely. Ledagh found herself without a voice. The boy looked much like the man, though considerably less handsome. Polydareus' eyes were smaller and his nose was "strong" as Ledagh often said. He was quite round, but Ledagh hoped that by the time he was full grown, his puppy fat would be gone. The man nodded at the boy and ruffled his hair.

Then he turned his attention to the girl. She was extraordinarily beautiful. Her features were perfect: big blue eyes, now deep as the ocean, and long, hair like spun gold. Ledagh gasped at the resemblance between the two; the man and her daughter. She had not noticed it before, but now that they stood together, it was apparent.

"You are quite a girl, are you not?" he picked her up. "Little one, what be your name?"

"We call her Philialeda," answered Ledagh swiftly.

The man frowned. "But that means only 'daughter of Ledagh.' This little one is so much more than that." 

"We had trouble naming her," said her mother affectionately. "She embodied so many things… her brothers and sister were much easier. Her sister, Clytemnestra, is named for the twisted willow tree that grows here, the _Clatem_, for she is as complicated as the twisting branches. And my son, Castor, is named for the nut, _Cas_, which produces a strong but sweet oil that is his name. And Polydareus here is named for his father, Tyndareus."

The man laughed, and the girl-child giggled as well, sharing the joke. "That is no child of Tyndareus, Ledagh. That is my own son. He and this one." He looked sadly at his beautiful, perfect daughter and she wondered why he did so. It was as if he knew something about her that the rest of them did not.

Then he looked Ledagh straight in the eye and said, "She ought to have a proper name. Philialeda is nothing more than an endearment."

Ledagh nodded, frightened suddenly by this stranger. He seemed to have such sway over her daughter, the little one who was so knowledgeable. 

The man looked at the small child in his arms. "Helene."


End file.
